


Anchored

by shield_maiden



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Future-ish cuteness, Harry gets a bit of a redemption arc, Sharing Clothes, This is fluffy af and I’m not sorry about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 19:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18857680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shield_maiden/pseuds/shield_maiden
Summary: Maybe he was really occupying his own grave behind the church and this was heaven, although he’s never believed in the concept of an afterlife and even if there were one, he’s pretty sure he’d be ear marked for hell, no matter how different he is now. Three months is not enough time to make up for all he’d done, but hoped he might get there one day. If it meant being good enough for Allie.





	Anchored

**Author's Note:**

> Hi have some entirely unbeta’d Allie x Harry future fluff. You can find me on tumblr @ crimson-petrichor

If you’d told Harry Bingham a year ago that they’d be transplanted into this mysterious new West Ham that would see him lose everything he’d even known, become horribly depressed, addicted to drugs, be manipulated into staging a political coup by his drug dealer, have everything go wrong so very fast, make it through withdrawals, and slowly fall in love with Allie Pressman, he would have told you that you were out of your fucking mind.

But it had all happened, and some days he had to pinch himself just to make sure that this wasn’t some elaborate dream or hallucination. Maybe he was really occupying his own grave behind the church and this was heaven, although he’s never believed in the concept of an afterlife and even if there were one, he’s pretty sure he’d be ear marked for hell, no matter how different he is now. Three months is not enough time to make up for all he’d done, but hoped he might get there one day. If it meant being good enough for Allie.

She’d never agree with him, but he knows she saved him. Not intentionally, but she had. She’d saved them all. 

They’d started as strangers, and then intimate strangers, playing fugitive in the streets and mapping each other’s bodies in the dark of his bedroom. She’d liked him because her sister didn’t, and that was enough for him then. Her sister died, and suddenly she became a leader before his eyes, it had been awe inspiring. She’d made the tough choices that he knows now he doesn’t have the stomach for. She’d somehow managed to keep her softness, pairing it equally with a tough no nonsense approach. 

In the midst of his depression, she’d been the only one to actually reach out and touch him. Sure, Kelly had gotten him out of the house, but Allie’s hand on his wrist that day had anchored him slightly. She’d helped him through withdrawals too, as had Kelly, and Gordie, but he remembers her the most, a blonde angel brushing his sweaty hair off of his forehead as he shook violently. 

She still anchored him.

It’s the wee hours of the early morning and she’s wearing his sweater, the maroon and yellow school one. It’s too big on her, she’s had to roll the cuffs twice just to be able to use her hands, and Harry estimates that it must hit upper thigh on her, judging from where it hits now, when she’s sitting at the dinning table, an intense look of concentration on her face. Harry finds himself smiling softly at her from the foot of the stairs before he steps into the kitchen to make them tea.

She smiles up at him as he hands her a steaming mug before sitting next to her, peering over her shoulder at the word document open on her laptop. 

“Did I wake you?” She asks softly, bringing her mug to her lips. 

He shakes his head, she hadn’t, but he also doesn’t sleep that deeply without her anymore. “No, but I sleep better with you.”

They lapse into silence again, but he can’t help himself, he has to say something.

“Nice outfit by the way, you should wear my clothes more often.” He says with a smirk and an exaggerated leer, and it’s worth it, watching her laugh and blush, even if she tries to swat at him with the too long sleeves.

She smiles and he links their fingers together on the table top, thinks back to the time when she had told him that she thought there was another alternate universe where they would be friends. 

Maybe this was the alternate universe.

But now they’re more than friends.


End file.
